CHAPTER XVIII.
End of the Trapper and Black Mustang.
"My first job, arter I war sartin that the Comanche war done for, warto light the torch an' examine the cave. First makin' sure that tharwar no more Injuns about, I crawled along up the passage that led tothe top o' the hill, where I found that the log which covered the holehad been moved, an' I knowed in a minit that that war the place wherethe Comanche had come in. I didn't care 'bout showin' myself much,'cause I didn't know how many more o' the savages there might beabout; so I pulled the log over the hole agin' an' crawled back intothe cave. I stuck my torch in the ground, an' arter movin' theComanche up in one corner out of the way, I pulled over a pile ofhemlock-boughs, that had many a time served me an' ole Bill for abed, an' found a kag o' spruce beer, an' enough jerked meat to last amonth. Me an' Bill allers took good keer to leave plenty o' provenderat the cave when we left, so that if we should get hard pressed by theInjuns, or game should get scarce, we would know where to go to findgood livin'. As I hadn't had a good meal since we lost the train, Ieat a heap o' that jerked meat, an' then lay down to sleep, hopin'that when I woke I should find ole Bill with me. I warn't much anxiousabout him, 'cause I knowed he war on as good a hoss as ever tracked aprairy, an' war too ole in Injun fightin' to be ketched easy; an' Iwent to sleep, sartin that he would turn up all right afore daylight.
"Wal, I slept like a top until 'arly the next mornin', but didn't seenothin' of ole Bill. Arter a breakfast on jerked meat an' spruce beer,I smoked a pipe, an' crawled up the passage to the top o' the hill,pushed off the log, an' settled down to listen. For two days, I keptwatch at that hole, listenin' an' peepin', but there war no signs ofole Bill. On the second arternoon, I heered the tramp of a hoss in thecreek, an' a'most at the same minit a big Comanche poked his headover the bushes not ten foot from where I war, an' looked toward theplace where the sound come from. How the rascal got there withoutseein' me, I didn't stop to think; but, risin' to my feet, I chuckedmy tomahawk at him, an' there war one Injun less in them woods. Nigherand nigher come the trampin' o' the hoss, an' I war sartin it war oleBill; so when he got within yellin' distance, I give the gobble of aturkey, jest to let him know that there war danger ahead. The ole manheered it, for the trampin' o' the hoss stopped, an', for a minit, thewoods war as still as death; but all to onct I heered the crack of arifle, follered by the death-screech of a Comanche, an' then theclatter of hoofs an' a loud laugh told me that the ole man warretreatin'. I knowed there warn't no use o' watchin' any more, so Ipulled the log over the hole agin, crawled back into the cave, an'went to sleep. It war night when I woke, an' takin' my rifle, Icrawled out into the gully an' lay down in the shade o' the bushes. Ilay there till near midnight without hearin' any thing, an' had a'mostmade up my mind that ole Bill warn't comin', when the low hootin' ofan owl come echoin' down the gully. I answered it, an', in a fewminits, up come Bill an' crawled into the cave.
"'Here I am,' said he, 'an' I had mighty hard work to get here,too--the timmer's chuck full o' the outlyin' varlets.'
"'Where's my hoss?' I asked.
"'He's down in the bushes, all right side up with keer, an' hid awaywhere the rascals will have to hunt a long time to find him. He'sworth his weight in beaver-skins, that hoss is.
"Ole Bill eat his supper in silence; but, arter fillin' his pipe,said:
"'Dick, them 'ar Comanches have got my hoss, an' I'm goin' back arterit.'
"Now a feller would think that, arter what Bill had gone through, hewouldn't be in no hurry about goin' back among the Injuns agin. Butsich scrapes warn't no new thing to him; an' when he said 'Go,' incourse I warn't goin' to stay behind. So, arter takin' another smoke,the ole man tuk the knife and tomahawk o' the Injun I had killed inthe cave, an' led the way out into the gully. As he had said, thetimmer was full of Injuns, an', as we crawled along on our hands an'knees, we could hear 'em talkin' to each other all around us. But wegot past 'em all right, an' as soon as we got out o' the gully, theole man rose to his feet and said:
"'That hoss knows that there's somethin' wrong; he hasn't moved aninch; he knows a'most as much as a human man, he does;' an' pullin'aside the branches of a thicket of scrub pines, I see my hoss standin'as quiet an' still as could be, jest as Bill had left him. He seemedmighty glad to see me agin, an' rubbed his head agin my shoulder, as Ifastened on the saddle an' jumped on his back.
"It war a good two weeks' work to get back to that camp, for theprairy an' woods war full o' Comanches huntin' around for Bill, an'sometimes we had to go miles round to get out o' their way.
"When we reached the camp, we found it nearly deserted by the braves;still, there war enough left to ketch me an' ole Bill, if we should bediskivered. Wal, we lay round in the woods until dark, but not a glimpcould we get o' the ole man's mustang. The critter might be in thecamp, but more 'n likely as not he war carryin' a Comanche on hisback, an' scourin' the prairy in search o' Bill.
"As soon as it war fairly dark, the ole man stuck out his hand, andsaid:
"'Dick, I'm goin' now. Good-by.'
"I never before felt so bad at partin' from him. Somehow I knowed thatsomethin' mighty onpleasant war goin' to happen; but it warn't no useto try to keep him from goin'; so I bid him good-by, an' he commencedcrawlin' through the grass toward the camp. I watched him as long ashe war in sight, an' then settled back agin a tree, an' waited to seewhat would turn up. For two hours I sot there listenin', an' thinkin'of all the fights me an' ole Bill had been in, an' wonderin' when thetime would come when we must part--not as we had now, for a littlewhile, but forever--when all to onct I heered the barkin' of a dog inthe camp. In course the hull village war aroused to onct, an' a loudyell told me that ole Bill had been diskivered. The yell was folleredby the crack of a rifle, an' the ole man come gallopin' out o' thecamp on his own hoss, shoutin':
"'Come on now, Dick, I'm even with the rascals. There's one lessComanche in the world.'
"The Injuns were clost on to Bill's trail, an' come pourin' out o' thecamp on foot an' on hossback; an', seem' one big feller far ahead ofthe others, I hauled up for a minit, sent him from his saddle, an'then, jumpin' on my hoss, started arter the ole man. In course theyellin' hounds war soon left behind, 'cause there warn't no hosses onthem prairies that could hold a candle to ourn; an' we war beginnin'to grow jolly over our good luck, when, the fust thing we knowed,crack went a couple o' rifles, an' Bill throwed his arms above hishead an' fell from his saddle.
"We had run chuck into a party o' Comanches who had been out huntin'the ole man, an' had give up the chase, an' were 'turnin' to camp. Theminit ole Bill fell I war by his side, an', while I war liftin' himfrom the ground, the rascals charged toward us with loud yells, sartinthat they had now got both of us in their power.
"'Dick,' said the ole man, a'most in a whisper, 'I've sent a good manyo' them screechin' imps out o' the world, an' it's my turn to go now.They have finished me at last. You can't help me--so save yourself;but remember that every Comanche that crosses your trail falls, to payfor this. Leave me.'
"'Bill, me an' you have been together too long for that. When I leaveyou it'll be arter this, said I, an', liftin him in my arms, I got himon my hoss, an' started off agin. The way that little mustang got overthe ground carried us ahead of all except two o' the Comanches, whokept bangin' away at us as fast as they could load their rifles. If Ihadn't had ole Bill in my arms I would have put an eend to theirshootin' an' yellin' in a tarnal hurry.
"It war no light load that hoss had to carry, an' I knowed that wemust come to closer quarters soon, 'cause he couldn't stand that gaitlong. But he carried us five mile 'bout as quick as I ever traveled,an' then, all to onct, commenced to run slow. He war givin' out fast.The yellin' varlets kept comin' nearer an' nearer, an' I had only onechance for life, an' a poor one at that. I would stick to the hoss aslong as he could step, an' then try it on foot. So I turned toward astrip o' woods which lay 'bout a mile off, but he hadn't made a dozenjumps when one o' the pursuin' Injuns sent a ball through his
head,an' we all come to the ground together.
"The minit I touched the prairy I dropped ole Bill an', at the cracko' my rifle, one o' the Injuns fell; the other then commencedcirclin' round me, 'fraid to come to clost quarters. But I kept my eyeon him, an' jest as he war goin' to fire, I dropped behind my hoss,and kept dodgin' 'bout till I got my rifle loaded, and then I settledmatters to onct. I war safe--but ole Bill war dead. I tuk him up in myarms agin, and carried him into the woods, where I rolled a log fromits place, an' arter scoopin' out some o' the ground, I put him in,an' pulled the log back over him. It war the best I could do for him,an' arter swearin' above his grave that a Comanche should fall forevery har on his head, I shouldered my rifle, an', jest as the sun warrisin', struck out acrost the prairy, which I knowed I must now treadalone.
"Is it a wonder, then, that I hate an Injun? The bones of many a bravethat lay scattered 'bout the prairy can tell how well I have kept myoath. Of all the Injuns that have crossed my trail since ole Bill'sdeath, the three that camped in this shantee that night ar the onlyones that ever escaped. I am not done with 'em yet; an' when I go backto the prairy, the Comanches will have further cause to remember thenight that see the eend of ole Bill Lawson an' the Black Mustang."